


A Study of Recurring Interpersonal Phenomena Between S'chn T'gai Spock and Leonard Horatio McCoy

by therev



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therev/pseuds/therev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Question: Could the unique phenomena which occurs between himself and Doctor McCoy actually be the result of mutual attraction? Spock tries to find out the way he knows best: science!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study of Recurring Interpersonal Phenomena Between S'chn T'gai Spock and Leonard Horatio McCoy

**Author's Note:**

> For the TOS Spones challenge and the theme: Team Science!

"Dr. McCoy," Spock said, and tried to sit up a little straighter on the biobed to greet the doctor.

"Now don't go wiggling around too much while you're under the regenerator," McCoy said with a frown and hurried in to adjust the bulky grey box that covered Spock's right leg. "I've told you a dozen times if you misalign the bones we'll have to re-break it, and I won't be using anything as pleasant as an exploding bulkhead this time."

"I am conscious of its alignment, Doctor. I am also conscious of a most irritating sensation on my calf."

"You mean it itches?"

"Abominably."

McCoy smiled. "Pain is of the mind, Mr. Spock, or so I've heard. So's a little itching, I guess. But I could give you a dose of something if it's really too much for you to handle." He batted his lashes.

Spock frowned. "It is not necessary."

McCoy nodded and took up the PADD of Spock's injury record. He must know it by heart, Spock thought, but he looked it over thoughtfully anyway.

"Looks good," McCoy said, "the density of the knit has improved since we added that high-grav simulator."

"An excellent innovation, Doctor," Spock said.

McCoy looked up briefly, surprised by the compliment. "Yes, well," he said, and cleared his throat. "Eaten anything today, Mr. Spock?"

"I have had a meal."

"Sleeping okay?"

"When it is required."

McCoy nodded tapping another box on the screen. "Supplemental meditation?"

"Affirmative," Spock said.

"Bowel movements?"

Spock stared quietly.

"I don't want to ask it any more than you want to answer it, Mr. Spock. The chart says you were up twice during gamma shift. Now if you don't want to tell me that's fine, but when Christine does her rounds she's not going to be so understanding."

"I am familiar with Nurse Chapel's persuasive techniques," Spock said, and folded his hands in his lap.

McCoy smiled but conceded and set the PADD aside. He crossed his arms. "Alright, so what else was there, Mr. Spock? Your message said you needed to see me. Now, you don't want drugs, you're not having trouble sleeping, and let's assume you're voiding regularly. What could a an otherwise healthy Vulcan with a broken tibia want with his feeble-minded human physician if not a little help healing?"

Spock considered the doctor standing next to his bed, the slight smile at the corner of his mouth, the playful blue eyes. Then, from beneath his covers, he pulled out his own PADD.

"I've been testing an hypothesis, Doctor," he said, coolly as possible, "and I should like to confer with you on the results."

McCoy bounced on his heels and smiled. "I was wondering what you were doing with your time. You want me to co-author a paper on the use of high-grav simulation on those dense Vulcan bones?"

"Not at all," Spock said, finding the appropriate file on the PADD. "You shall be the first to review the results, as I feel you are uniquely qualified to verify the findings."

McCoy raised a brow. "Is that two compliments in as many minutes, Mr. Spock? Be still my beating heart," he said, and smiled, and accepted the PADD as Spock handed it over. He sat on the edge of the biobed, one leg bent beneath him, facing Spock. "Let's see what we have here." 

He read the PADD.

He looked up at Spock.

He read the PADD again.

He cleared his throat and read aloud, "A Study of Recurring Interpersonal Phenomena Between S'chn T'gai Spock, First Officer and Leonard Horatio McCoy, CMO, USS Enterprise, Including Observations Both Romantic and Platonic and the Predicted Outcome Thereof."

"The title may need editing," Spock suggested.

McCoy's smile had faded as he read and his face had began to flush pink, but he looked up at Spock with a kind smile. He spoke quietly. "Mr. Spock, are you sure I should be the one reading this?"

"Who better to confirm my hypothesis?"

"Which is?"

"It is in the paper."

McCoy blinked and looked down at the PADD as if he'd forgotten it was in his hand. He shifted a little on the bed, looking uncertain. He tapped the screen. 

"Hypothesis," he read, "It is my belief that in the time already elapsed of our five year mission (four years, twenty days, six hours, and eleven minutes at the time of this journal) that Doctor Leonard H. McCoy, CMO (Earth) and S'chn T'gai Spock, First Officer (Vulcan) of the USS Enterprise, registration number NCC-seventeen-oh--, oh hell," McCoy said, and stopped reading. He laid the PADD aside. "Why don't you just tell me, Spock. I don't need all the technical data, the gist of it will do."

Spock didn't think McCoy was angry, though his face was rather red.

"My hypothesis is that we share a mutual attraction," Spock said.

"And what is your question?"

"I propose that, given this mutual attraction, we could be successfully compatible for a romantic relationship."

McCoy nodded, brows drawn together, calmly considering. "Based on what research?"

"The idea chiefly arose from personal experience, the time we have spent together during the mission--"

"Subjective at best," McCoy suggested, but he was very nearly smiling.

"--as well as historical evidence."

The smile was gone instantly. "What historical evidence?"

"Your ex-wife."

McCoy stood and frowned deeply. "You talked to Jocelyn? I don't think that's entirely ethical, Mr. Spock."

"I didn't actually speak to her, no. She was unavailable for interview but sent a brief reply and provided an alternate contact."

"Let me guess," McCoy said, "She warned you away from me?"

"On the contrary, she wished me luck."

McCoy rolled his eyes and sat back down. "Perhaps, Mr. Spock, the human art of sarcasm is lost on Vulcans."

"Perhaps, Doctor."

"Well who was this other contact she gave you?" McCoy asked and picked up the PADD again. He began thumbing through the report. "Her lawyer?"

"Your daughter," Spock said.

"Oh boy," McCoy said, and his smile was suddenly back. "I'm sorry I missed that conversation."

"Joanna was eager to discuss the subject."

"You mean she's kind of pushy where my love life is concerned."

"She also had a lot of questions of her own."

McCoy looked up suddenly from the PADD, eyes suspicious and curious at once. "What sort of questions?"

Spock gripped his own hands a little tighter in his lap. 

"Questions of my intentions, my motivation, my ultimate goals. As well as numerous inquiries regarding our common interests, and many which I believe were intended to gauge the level of my attraction to you."

The corner of McCoy's mouth lifted in a crooked smile. "And what level is that?"

"Difficult to say without a scale by which to measure."

"One to ten."

"Is ten the most significant whereas one is the least significant?"

"Of course it is."

"Nine."

McCoy grinned broadly, then tried to hide it. "Only nine, Mr. Spock?"

"One must leave room for unknown variables."

"And have you estimated the level of my attraction to you based on your observations?"

"I developed a sliding scale based on your apparent mood, workload, and several other variables, and calculated the average based on daily interaction over a given period, as shown in the data. Your mean attraction to me appears to be at a six."

McCoy's smiled softened, blue eyes gazing at Spock, painfully understanding. The doctor's passions had only ever been outdone by his compassion. But at last, McCoy schooled his features and looked away, back at the PADD.

"So you've done your research, constructed a hypothesis, but have you performed any experiments?"

Spock released a breath. He had not realized he'd been holding it. "Not as such. The uncontrolled nature of the subjects as well as the relatively small sample size did force me to rely more heavily on field research rather than experimentation for my findings. For example, I could not devise a suitable control, such as an individual toward which I was certain you held no positive or negative feelings."

McCoy frowned playfully. "Well that's no good, Spock. Were you even able formulate any predictions? To test them?

"My data consists mainly of observations of yourself with different persons, both crewmembers and the alien life which we have encountered, as compared with comparable interaction with myself."

"For instance?"

Spock resisted the urge to squirm. His calf itched still, but something more was making him restless, something like McCoy sitting so near, the human warmth of him through the biobed sheet which seemed suddenly hot against Spock's outer thigh. "For instance, you initiate contact with my person an average of one-point-three times more often per shift than you do with the Captain, and two-point-seven times more often than other crewmembers, not including examinations, of course, with the exception of Nurse Chapel."

"Well what does that imply about myself and Christine?"

"It would imply much except that Nurse Chapel has insisted such a data point to be an outlier, and as such, dismissable."

McCoy raised his brows. "You asked Christine if we were in a relationship?"

"I asked if she felt that such a connection was historically warranted or forthcoming. She indicated that it was not and will not be, and that in fact she has a precluding connection with another crewmember."

McCoy smiled, eager for gossip. "Which one?"

"That is hardly germane to the data, Doctor."

"Spoil sport," McCoy said and shook his head, eyes shining. Spock was finding it difficult not to stare.

"At any rate," Spock said, to stop himself from saying something else, "another data set shows that you have risked your life for me six-point-seven percent more frequently than any other crew member, including the Captain."

"Have I?" McCoy said, looking surprised. 

"Indeed, though some of those instances can only be broadly defined as risk, such as your offer to accompany me to Vulcan during my convalescence prior to Mr. Scott constructing the enclosed gravity simulator. Considering your outspoken distaste for my planet, I counted this as a risk. I had not actually predicted the offer, and I certainly did not intentionally injure myself to create the test, but I feel that it was a significant data point."

"But did you also consider, Mr. Spock, that the frequency of risk is more closely related to the fact that you, out of all of the crew, might manage to get into the most trouble?"

"Given the Captain's tendency toward dangerous situations, twenty-one-point-nine-seven percent of our entire mission, fourteen percent higher than my own, I did not think it a relevant factor."

McCoy nodded, smiling, and after a moment he said, "And what about you, Mr. Spock? In what ways have you manifested evidence of this attraction toward me?"

Spock frowned. "Has it not been apparent, Doctor?"

Silence stretched as McCoy stared, then began to look around the room as if searching for something. Life support systems whirred almost soundlessly as if waiting for the response as well. When McCoy found nothing he looked back at Spock.

"I'm sorry," he said, "was there actually something I was supposed to notice besides your dismissal of my opinion, the derision of my intelligence, or your annoyance at my very presence?"

Spock blinked. "Merely an attempt to communicate on common ground, to match you in wits and display through friendly banter an interest in prolonged interaction."

"You were flirting?" 

"I believe that is the term. Were you not as well?"

McCoy looked caught. He cleared his throat and shifted on the bed. "Fair enough," he said, and Spock pressed on.

"Additionally, during our acquaintance, I have increasingly displayed considerable preference for your company, your counsel, and," Spock paused, swallowed, tried to sit straighter, "increased physical contact."

The weight of McCoy seemed suddenly heavy on the bed, so near. For a moment, Spock thought he would stand and move away, but he only looked thoughtful.

"Well? Is that all?" McCoy asked.

Spock blinked, swallowed. He had felt these to be quite persuasive observations. "There was not much other data which could be quantified in a satisfactory way."

"You call that satisfactory?"

"It is the data that was available. I inferred what I could and attempted not to be biased even where favorable data was… tempting."

"Hogwash," McCoy said, and frowned. "I suggest that your data is flawed, that your measurements, while imaginative, are at the very least inaccurate, and at worst inapplicable. Did you compare the rate of contact initiated by myself to that initiated by you? Did you consider the number of times you've risked your life for me, or the Captain for that matter? That's how you broke that leg, after all. Perhaps you're really in love with Jim! Or is that another conveniently dismissible data outlier?"

There was a knot in Spock's stomach. He had heard the phrase before but he had never quite understood it. 

"That data is in the paper," he said softly, and reached for the PADD, seeking any reason to look away from McCoy, but when he reached out McCoy took his hand and held it. The Doctor's hands were warm as always. 

"Why didn't you just ask me?" McCoy said, brow furrowed but without anger. "Isn't this," he said, holding Spock's hand with both of his own, "a better measurement?" He lifted their hands together and kissed Spock's knuckles.

There was a beep behind the bed. McCoy looked up and smiled. "There now, you see? Quantifiable evidence. Your heart rate just spiked, Mr. Spock, for which I congratulate myself. Given previous experience I know just how stubborn that particular Vulcan organ can be."

Spock gripped McCoy's hands tighter. "Not as immovable as you would assume, Doctor."

McCoy's smile brightened, his eyes sparkled from the lights blinking over the bed. He leaned in closer and kissed Spock gently. Once, twice, three times. Spock would have thought that this was excellent data collection if he had been able to think clearly.

"I've got a few other ideas for experiments, Mr. Spock," McCoy said when they parted a little.

"Do you still doubt my conclusion?"

McCoy nodded. "I have to tell you your calculation of my mean attraction to you was incredibly low."

"I was endeavoring to be conservative in all equations. I admit that my own is far over a ten."

McCoy laughed and kissed Spock again. Four, five, six times. Spock began to think he would eventually lose count.

"Do you have any research in there regarding the rate of disagreement relative to affection?" McCoy asked.

"That is an entirely different paper, Doctor," Spock said, and pulled McCoy close again and added another data point.


End file.
